


Somebody's Baby

by MusicalProstituteMyDear



Category: Ferris Bueller's Day Off (1986)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, New Family, The true heros: medical professionals that deliver babies to scared new parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24431686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicalProstituteMyDear/pseuds/MusicalProstituteMyDear
Summary: The story of how a certain couple expanded their family.
Relationships: Ferris Bueller/Cameron Frye/Sloane Peterson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 39





	Somebody's Baby

There are many perks to having not one, but  _ two _ husbands, Sloane (née Peterson) Bueller-Frye mused. For example, owning a home had never been an easier endeavour than when there were three incomes to rely on. They alternated making dinner every night, the sex was  _ superb _ , and probably the best of them all was during her time of the month when both of them were more than willing to massage whatever she so asked them to. Sloane was six years out of college, in a profession she adored, and was happily wed to the men of her dreams—her life was bliss, and she thanked her lucky stars for the jackpot she hit. 

But, of course, as she was vomiting her brains out one cold December night, the last thing she felt was ‘grateful.’ She ate incredibly healthy, jogged every morning, and hadn’t gotten a proper cold since her sophomore year of high school when she drank far too much Tab at a Senior Grad Bash… she had no idea what it could’ve been, but she cared so little to even think about what it might have been that she didn’t even notice the puke she was doused a good chunk of her hair in as she lifted the seat of the toilet bowl.

After about five minutes of heaving, emptying the contents of her stomach, Ferris walked into their shared bedroom, ready to put on his pajamas, when he walked past the bathroom and instantly ran to her. “God, Sloane!” He exclaimed, quickly using his left hand to bunch her mousy hair out of her face. “Sweetheart, are you alright?” 

All she could manage at that point was a few nods, but Ferris highly doubted what he was witnessing. “It’s gonna be alright, honey, we gotcha. Cameron!”

The man in question, currently downstairs in the kitchen preparing himself a drink—and Old Fashioned, of course—was fast to shout back. “Everything alright up there?”

“No, could you bring me some ice water and an ibuprofen?” Just as his message made it to their husband, Sloane had taken about half of a full breath before a fresh round of retching started back up. “And, hurry, will ya!”

Cameron furrowed his brow, but did just that. One tall glass of water (filled with ice chips, not to mention) and two tablets of the requested medicine later, he found himself upstairs, where his heart dropped at the sight of his wife blue in the face. “Christ, what happened?” He asked, setting down his items to sit next to her, intently rubbing her back as she waited for the wave of nausea to pass.

Ferris shrugged, panicked. “I-I dunno, I just found her like this!”

No one said anything for a while, the sounds of Sloane’s regurgitations reverberating off the walls of their rather large bathroom. The men shushed her as she cried, yet never left her side once. Forty-five minutes later, her body seemed to communicate that it got out everything it needed to. Sloane straightened her back, wiped away her stray tears, and took another deep breath. Ferris handed her the cup with the ice chips, which she gracefully took. Just as she was about to stand up and clean herself off, the two of them were quick to protest.

“Woah, sweetheart, take it easy,” said Cameron. He swiped a towel from the little rack they kept next to the tub, wetting it in the sink before he handed it to her. “Are you alright?”

She shook her head, yet still smiled at them. “I’m fine, promise,” she managed, grabbing another piece of ice. 

Ferris shot her that infamous skeptical look of his. “And why do I doubt that?”

“Honestly,” she swallowed, “I’m sure it’s just that bug that’s been going around my office. I’ll be alright by morning, I think I’m just going to head to bed now.”

“Are you sure? I mean, not that I’m questioning you, just that—” Cameron paused, inspecting her sad face, which he noticed had turned a little green. “Alright, hon, I think we’ll turn in, too.” 

That night, after she’d taken a warm shower and they all had climbed into their heavenly comfortable King-sized (yet another perk of marriage she forgot about), there was an unspoken word that passed among them. None of them were stupid by any standards, but they didn’t want to just jump to conclusions; after all, they’d tossed around the conversational ball pertaining to the pitter-patter of little feet for the past few years now, but they just couldn’t believe that time was presenting  _ now _ .

But, that was a talk they’d save for another, fateful day.

… 

Cameron felt like he was going to pass out. 

He loved his family, there was no hesitation in his mind that he didn’t, and when Sloane had showed him and Ferris those little pink lines, he wouldn’t be lying if he said he cried for  _ at least _ two hours, burrowing his then wet face into the space between her neck and collarbone. He promised he wouldn’t ever make the same mistakes Morris did, that their child would be so loved, hell, they wouldn’t know what hit them! The very notion of fatherhood should have been something that scared the absolute shit out of him, and yet all he could find coursing through his veins was utter elation and pure excitement for the years ahead.

Ferris, on the other hand, felt like life was mocking him. He was glad that they finally got to the root of Sloane’s nausea problem, but there was still one looming question that he needed an answer to:  _ who’s baby was it?  _

Of course, _that_ should’ve been the last thing on his mind, and yet it was going to drive him insane for the next nine months, waiting to get a look at their baby’s face. 

“Fer, honey?” Sloane whispered and looked up at him as he pulled away from her ever-loving embrace, her eyes searching for some trace of happiness. “Aren’t you thrilled? You’re gonna be a dad!”

Her saccharine voice would always be there to break him free from the internal-monologuing he was prone to. Was  _ the _ Ferris Archibald Bueller afraid of his looming fatherhood? Positively so, yet did he also wish to scream it from the top of Mount Rushmore that the loves of his life were becoming parents? Right again! On top of praying for a problem-less pregnancy and healthy baby, Ferris honestly didn’t know what to expect: for once in his life, he felt as though he didn’t have any control over what happened next.

Oh, wait,  _ back  _ to Cameron.

To begin, the three of them were sardined into the tiniest examination room humanly possible. He felt like his airways were closing in, his eyes were welling with tears, and all he wanted to do was go home. Times were changing, but he had no idea how they were going to play this off to outsiders: it was unheard of, three people in love with one another, and raising a family, nonetheless. He didn’t want their child to be mocked by their peers, or for their parents to confront them on their... unorthodox “living situation.” Sure, they could just lie, but after one too many school functions people would eventually speculate. Their love may not have been illegal, but it was nowhere near socially acceptable.

The nurse excused herself from the room, and it was then that Cameron let his tears flow freely. He couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath in amazement, to which Ferris placed a loving hand on his back and Sloane squeezed him the slightest bit tighter in a hug (which was a noticeable amount, considering she was still sitting on the examination table). She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and looked up at her men. The anxious, nervous wrecks that she adoringly knew as her husbands. 

“Well,” she began. “Let’s do this.”

… 

Their luck just so had it that Sloane gave birth on her predicted due date to not one, but two babies. And, on the 28th of May, 1997, the Bueller-Frye household first welcomed a little girl into their happy family, followed by her younger brother. Much to their surprise, both men were welcomed into the delivery room and stood by her side through a long, tiring labor. When the doctors cleaned them off and placed their newborn daughter and son into their arms for the very first time, Ferris felt no shame in openly sobbing. 

In that moment, the three of them could care less who the babies fathers were, or what other parents thought of them—they knew it was going to be a wonderful life for their family of five, one filled with the constancy of pure and unadulterated love. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my little story! What do you think they would name the babies?


End file.
